


They did it in the van

by girahimu_sama



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Nico paints nails also, Post canon, exactly what it says in the title, kind of exploration of VerV power dynamics, minor Vergil/V/Nico friendship moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29015781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girahimu_sama/pseuds/girahimu_sama
Summary: "Nicoletta," Vergil begins gravely, not taking his eyes off the couch. "We… defiled your vehicle. I sincerely apologize."
Relationships: V/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37





	They did it in the van

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm writing a V Returns fic and this idea wouldn't leave my head, but I felt it wouldn't really fit the tone of the fic because, well, it's kind of just silly and dumb. But I also wanted to write some fluff because they deserve it. So uh, yeah. Consider this a bonus spin off scene.

Vergil prefers to be clean. He fights with unmatched efficiency, moving only when he has to - and when he does move, not an ounce of his energy is wasted. He's a blur on the battlefield, untouchable, avoiding unnecessary blood spray. If something  _ does _ manage to leave him in a state of bloody disarray, then that opponent should be feared indeed.

V doesn't much care either way. He values efficiency, but not in the same vein as Vergil. Clothes can be replaced, blood can be scrubbed off, and the sensation of his enemies being crushed under his power is more important than anything. He doesn't  _ mind _ the viscera, even revels in it sometimes - when it truly makes him feel alive to scrub the earth clean of the demon scum plaguing it. Griffon practically had to drag him into his first bath after all, so many months back when he was a mere fragment of Vergil trying to find its way home.

It's one of the areas their personalities diverge. V rather likes finding those. It makes him feel like the truly complete being Vergil promises he is now. 

And it's also why he stands there before his other half, smirking at the blood that drenches them both, while Vergil can only wrinkle his nose in abject disgust.

The mission hadn't been anything of note, beneath them both individually and not even the slightest challenge for them together. A den of flying demonic leeches had swarmed them, some the length of a forearm, others the size of a small car. All of them faster than they looked, but a few bolts from Griffon, slices from Shadow and cuts of the Yamato had them coming apart in a thick, chunky spray. They were like water balloons bursting apart with the lightest touch. Water balloons with hundreds of rows of teeth.

Vergil had danced through them, a thin line tracing through the air where Yamato cut a moment before he'd appear on the other side of the splatter, safely out of its reach. V picked off everything else that tried to flank them. They'd worked through the cave, steadily making their way to the heart of the nest.

The queen leech hung at the center of the cavern they emerged in, stuck to the roof like some kind of pulsating purple growth. She was almost the size of a whale, and her underlings trembled and rushed at them with renewed fury.

Vergil slid his foot back, readying to bring it and everything else in the cavern down with a series of cuts. V had taken one look at the thing and snapped his fingers. 

Nightmare's fist had punched through the great mass and it exploded in a crimson shower - mostly human blood mixed with the dark entrails of other demons. It flooded the area, a maelstrom of filth and gore pushing them back several feet and leaving no space where Vergil could escape to.

As soon as he rights himself, Vergil reaches up slowly, deathly calm, and wipes the fluids out of his eyes, flicking them off his hand.

"You did that on purpose."

"I did no such thing." V leans on his cane with a casual grace, the ink creeping back into his hair as Nightmare's presence fades. "Besides, would it have mattered if you had dealt the finishing blow?"

The thing had looked ready to pop regardless, but Vergil glowers at him and utters a skeptical,  _ "lies." _

V shrugs innocently enough, still smiling in the face of Vergil's glare. It is a rare sight indeed to see that pristine appearance so thoroughly dirtied. He looks almost animal right now, like a true demon, and V almost wishes the battle had been more taxing to let him glimpse a little more at a feral Vergil.

Griffon swoops down next to them, cackling. The blood sinks through his form, unable to stick to his feathers the same way it clung to the two of them - lucky for him. "If ya can't handle the mess then ya shouldn't have stepped in the splash zone!"

Vergil ignores him as usual, adjusting Yamato at his side with a slight huff. "Our job here is done. I suppose we can let that nearby settlement know we took out their trash for them - since they were too weak to do it themselves."

V raises a brow and stands up straight, twirling his cane and letting it rest against his shoulder instead as he steps closer to Vergil. He could have pointed out Vergil didn't  _ have  _ to accompany him on this mission - he was perfectly capable of handling this one himself - but he lets it slide. He enjoys the company, even if Vergil doesn't want to admit it is obviously a mutual feeling.

"We should hope they remain too weak for menial tasks such as this. Otherwise we might be in a spot of... financial trouble." A sly trace of  _ something _ seeps into his tone. "And I think that can wait until  _ after _ a thorough washing."

If Vergil catches his meaning, he doesn't outwardly acknowledge it. He merely gives a  _ hmph  _ and starts off back the way they came, but V can see the corner of his lip twitch upwards.

\---

They return to the van parked in the wilderness, the silence brewing thick between them, that  _ something _ following them all the way back. It feels like the static before a strike of lightning, or perhaps when two powerful demons are about to clash. V doesn't quite have carnage in mind, however, even as he leers at Vergil's bloodied state without shame.

Vergil is still pretending not to notice as he steps inside. It's quiet and empty, and the setting sun casts soft amber beams of light through the curtains.

"Nero and Nicoletta haven't returned."

V can plainly see that for himself as he moves up behind Vergil, who still isn't looking at him. He's staring at the interior of the van like he finds that more fascinating, and V can guess why he states the obvious.

"No, it may take them several hours, knowing how much that woman enjoys field observation of her merchandise," V says, gaze drifting up the back of Vergil's neck, to the curve of his jaw. V watches it clench as he sets a hand on his lower back, fingers spreading out in a possessive claim. His voice drops lower, silkier as he brings his lips to Vergil's ear.

"You must be  _ aching _ to wash that filth off by now."

Truthfully, V wouldn't have minded if they held off on that for a while. That cloying scent clinging to them both, it makes his pulse rush. Some part of him, a demonic fragment he is somehow still connected to despite his completely human body, wants the blood and sweat surrounding him -  _ overwhelming _ him. Wants the savage creature hiding beneath a man's skin before him to take him in all his primal glory. 

He very much enjoys taming that beast, when Vergil allows him to. V's existence had started clawing from the very bottom, nothing more than crumbling flesh and withering power, and yet he'd commanded others to do his bidding despite his circumstance. The rush he got from control didn't fade when it came to Vergil - it only became stronger.

He presses with his palm, moving up his spine, feeling that strong body shift beneath him as Vergil takes a breath.

"You planned for this." Vergil's tone betrays nothing as he turns his head, but his icy gaze tells all as it locks on V. His breathing has grown shallow, the tension in his body coiled like a spring.

"I'm flattered you give me such credit." V smiles. He hadn't planned this, truthfully, but the pieces had started to fall into place and he was nothing if not resourceful. "Surely I could think of better ways to orchestrate getting you alone?"

V is nothing but pleased when that metaphorical thread of patience snaps and Vergil turns to press him up against the bathroom door. 

"You're enjoying this too much for me to believe you." Oh, V likes hearing the rougher edge his voice takes in moments like these.

"I don't hear a complaint, Vergil." V arches a brow.  _ "The fox condemns the trap, not himself." _

Vergil snorts, leaning his close, but his lips merely hover inches from V's. His finger hooks in the lace covering V's front. "Send them away."

V complies easily (because Griffon had started singing  _ 'Vergil and V sittin' in a tree…' _ in the back of his mind) and sends the two familiars far outside the van.

Their clothes don't last long after that. Vergil all but tears the laces of V's corset open while V works off the layers Vergil hides his toned body under, both grasping hungrily at exposed skin. It's all carelessly tossed in the hamper off to the side to be dealt with later.

V drags him into the shower and Vergil takes the opportunity to shove him up against the wall and claim his lips. V smirks into the kiss, hand threading in Vergil's hair as he makes sure to press a thigh between the devil's legs, finding him hard. His other hand goes to the faucet and fumbles the water on. The sweltering summer air has left them both sweaty and hot and he doesn't even mind when the cold sprays them first before the heating kicks in.

The shower is cramped enough with one person, and two feels nearly impossible. They're pressed chest to chest, fumbling between hastily trying to scrub the bloody mess from their bodies and hungrily grasping at said bodies. A river of red runs off their skin and circles the drain, the entire shower looking like a crime scene. V runs shampoo through Vergil's hair, taking the opportunity to twist his fingers in the strands, and he sighs when Vergil repays the favour in full.

He's so very pleased Vergil is rutting against him and growling into his ear with impatience. Intimacy is such a complicated thing with him - with both of them really - and it had taken so long to get to this point. V had sunken into it easier than his demonic counterpart, and it had been a slower process for Vergil to reach the kind of enthusiasm he displayed now - where he truly allowed himself to indulge in his instincts. V prefers dominance just as much as his other self - for it is such a central part of their personalities - but as Vergil's hands slide down his body, nails dragging over skin as they dip  _ obscenely _ low then drag back up, V is content to concede this time. Irritation and arousal form an intoxicating mix in Vergil's eyes as they burn into him, and sometimes that is exactly what V craves. He'd very much like to cultivate it, turn it into something he can use.

The space is too small for anything to come of it, however. They let the water rinse the soap off and all but tumble out into the small living space, still tangled together. They grab for towels, patting off so they don't drip everywhere. Vergil takes the opportunity to pull on one of the spare pairs of pants kept in the van for situations like these, though V doesn't know why he bothers. Dignity was a thing he'd long since stopped caring about, as far as nudity was concerned.

The pants aren't staying on long anyway.

V urges Vergil in the direction of the couch, but senses a shift in his mood.

As if the lack of steam surrounding them both has cleared his mind a little, Vergil appears to sober as he takes in the van. V is concerned, but his apprehension doesn't surprise him. He's found his other half has so many more reservations about sex, many revealing themselves in the heat of the moment. V would always back off, give him the space he needed and deserved, but he still wonders what set him off this time.

"We shouldn't be doing this here." Vergil utters, and the shame that coats his words is suddenly very comical. "Nicoletta-"

V gives a closed mouth chuckle, setting a hand on his shoulder. Is that what it is then? 

"Ah yes, the sanctity of old beer cans and cigarette smoke. I didn't think you had such consideration."

Vergil narrows his eyes at him, huffing in exasperation. "That isn't-"

"It is simply a space, Vergil, only worth as much significance as you give it." 

Really, it showed a marked improvement in how Vergil was willing to engage in social relationships, even if his concern is misplaced. Nicoletta would not have cared what they got up to in the van, provided they didn't damage any of her equipment in the process. Still, this is probably the most public their endeavors had gotten, so perhaps Vergil is simply stuck on  _ that _ aspect. Whatever the case, V manages to ease him to sit on the couch, then straddles his hips.

He could have reassured Vergil it was fine - could have told him about Nico drunkenly bragging about how she once had a female date spread out on her workbench 'like a buffet', even - and that nothing was sacred here, but it is so much more fun to  _ goad _ .

"Are you afraid someone will see?" He leans in close, nearly brushing their lips together as he purrs. "Does the thrill of being caught  _ excite _ you?"

Not that anyone would catch them. They're miles away from civilization, and the only two people who would return here will be absent for at least a few more hours. Or he hopes so. He would never subject Nero or Nicoletta to this - that would just be mortifying.

Vergil leers up at him and V can see it warring in his eyes, feels his  _ desire _ pressing up between his legs. Foolish pride, dignity, common sense, whatever one would call it- it clashes beautifully with a deeper instinct, the one that doesn't care that this is Nico's van and he should just take what he wants.

V watches it push for dominance, and then he watches it win.

"I think," Vergil's voice is dangerous and V grins wickedly as he feels his hands slide up his body, "I've had enough of your games."

"Oh?" V tilts his head. "And what will you do about it?" 

Vergil easily shifts their weight and presses V down into the couch and it's moments like these V truly adores being reminded of his other self's strength. He doesn't mind the shift in power because it lets him feel Vergil's strong body against him - the kind of physical strength he could never achieve, and mourns sometimes - as his wrists are held down above him.

"Wonderful." V sighs, half lost between their lips as Vergil pulls another kiss from him. Their tongues slide together as Vergil's pushes into his mouth, taking and taking. Their hips grind together (why did he put those damn pants on?) and their groans bleed hot between them. 

V twists his head away so he can speak and Vergil bites his neck hard, nearly making him forget what he's about to say.

"You- you might need this."

Vergil lets his wrist go as he reaches for something, fumbling up and behind the couch cushions and-  _ aha. _ V pulls out a small bottle, which Vergil gives a withering look before snatching it from him.

"Do I  _ want _ to know?"

"I told you, you worry over nothing." V smirks, using his thighs and feet to push the loose pants back off Vergil's hips. 

Vergil merely snorts but obliges him, sliding a hand down and pressing lube slick fingers against his entrance. V relaxes against the intrusion, hiking up against the digits, impatient and eager. He breathes raggedly against the stretch, more out of anticipation than anything else, head rolling back against the arm of the couch. Vergil is deft and efficient, and so deliciously familiar with all their sensitive spots by now.

_ "He who kisses the joy as it flies, Lives in eternity's sunrise."  _ V whispers as his arms slide around Vergil's shoulders, nails dragging over flesh as he pulls his other half close, but Vergil's free hand closes around his throat and presses him back down.

"Does the thrill of being caught excite  _ you _ , V?" Vergil sneers, squeezing with one hand and continuing to work him open with the other. He crooks his fingers inside him, the motion shooting straight to V's balls. "I can't say I'd enjoy having anyone else see you like this. You're mine alone."

V's breath stutters along with his heart and he swallows thickly, his throat pushing against the palm pressed around it. Vergil's grip isn't hard, and his thumb rubs the pulse point reverently, such care and possessiveness burning in his eyes. It's warmth only V knows, and he savors it every time Vergil shows it to him.

He was once cast off like he was nothing, and now Vergil looks at him like he's the world. Their soul had been broken in so many ways, some even by their own hand. Such a wretched start and an impossible journey, and yet they were here, and they could have this. They could want each other freely, and be wanted.  _ He is wanted. _

"Come here." His voice is low and husky as he reaches for Vergil's face, cups his cheek and aligns their lips again. So sentimental all of a sudden - no matter. He feels Vergil's hand slip from his throat to his hair, feels the three fingers inside him rub against  _ that spot _ once more just to hear him whimper before they withdraw.

V squeezes him between his thighs, grabbing his shoulders as Vergil guides himself to his entrance. V's breath stutters as he feels Vergil press at his resistance, so close, and he waits- and waits. Vergil merely hums at his ear, like he's contemplating something is more important than  _ filling him. _

"Vergil…" V's hand slides into his hair, voice edging on a growl as Vergil teases his tip against him. "You know I'll make you suffer for this later."

His fingers tighten in the strands but his threat holds little weight right now, as he all but shakes in anticipation, and Vergil knows it; the bastard smirks into his neck.

"Maybe, but for now I'll have you beg."

Such audacity, but V can hardly fault him. Power is a mutual interest, especially when they can shift and play with it between themselves with no real consequence. There is nothing to do but call it out. V pushes him back slightly so he can force Vergil to look him in the face.

"And have you earned that?" He purrs, relishing the challenge that flares in Vergil's eyes. 

And then he's being pressed into the couch as Vergil sinks into him, as hot and thick as he'd ever been, and V gasps his victory.

_ "More." _ He breathes, throaty and trembling as Vergil doesn't stop until he's completely inside. But then he simply doesn't move, and V feels the tension running through his body, barely held back restraint. V groans and wraps his legs around him, squeezing. He knows he wants it hard and teetering on  _ overwhelming _ , but he also knows Vergil truly does want to torture him a bit first.

_ "Please, _ Vergil, I want you-" Such pride is useless to him, and he'd long since cast it off. After Red Grave, after seeing the depths of how powerless he could become, nothing mattered except using anything he could to his advantage. And that is why V moans the words so sweetly into Vergil's ear, relishing the following hard thrust that makes his head spin.

"Like that, yes…!"

He drags his nails down Vergil's back, hard enough to leave angry red lines that heal almost instantly. Such a shame, but Vergil growls low in his throat as his pace quickly picks up. V knows he'll be sore later - usually is after moments like these - but that doesn't matter now.

He never had time before, not in his first existence - it couldn't even be called a life - too much to do, too many ways his soul screamed for completion. He has a second chance now, a chance to be selfish, to seize existence for himself and wring every last drop of meaning from it. His  _ completion  _ is the demon above him, driving his claim into him. That was why this is just a  _ space _ and V will use it however he wants.

_ "Thou art a man, God is no more-"  _

Words are a little far away as the pressure builds between them, but V manages in his ear.  _ "Thy own humanity, learn to adore…!" _

He's being pressed against the cushions with all their tears and stains, and the air smells of cigarette smoke, and the couch can't quite contain their tall figures, but the way Vergil's fingers wrap around V's length between them is  _ divine. _

His orgasm rocks through him and V flings his head back with a shudder and moan, spilling between their bodies. Above him, he feels Vergil's rhythm hitch as he breaks as well, and he's sure to bring his attention back up so he doesn't miss it. Vergil is always so tight and controlled, but these moments where his composure truly slips and his expression falls open… V is sure to savor something so fleeting whenever he is graced with it.

The tension ebbs from them both and Vergil collapses against him, burying that relaxed expression into his neck with a few unfocused kisses. V hums as though agreeing to a question never asked, fingers stroking through Vergil's hair and along his muscles. They regain their breath slowly, still connected, yet unhurried.

Sprawled out with his head half hanging off the couch, the fading sunlight washing over them both, V gives a quiet, breathless laugh. And Vergil, still working his lips against his neck in their hazy afterglow, joins him.

\---

As V had said, it doesn't seem significant in the moment. However, a week later, as the three of them sit in the van and wind down from another rather dull mission, Vergil finds his gaze drawn back to the worn leather. Nicoletta sits on the couch now with V at her side, his hand propped on her knee as she delicately stencils a design onto his nails. She works as meticulously as she does with her inventions, the tip of her tongue between her teeth and her focus unparalleled.

Vergil grimaces, tearing his gaze away. She's right on the spot where V had- none of it seems right. How had he managed to let V goad him into such a thing? Is he that much of a sex crazed beast? To repay her like this-

"I'll get to you in a sec! Don't gotta look so constipated over there." Damn, not as absorbed into her work as he had assumed. At least not to the point of being oblivious to his discomfort. She glances to him, brow raised. "What's on yer mind?"

V, who had been serenely observing her paint his nails, smiles wickedly as he meets Vergil's eye. He tilts his head ever so slightly, as if daring him to answer her question  _ honestly. _

He should have just lied, but lying was not something he made a habit of. And he doubts it would help with the sheer, brutal  _ discomfort  _ that slams into his conscience every time he looks at the blasted piece of furniture.

"Nicoletta," Vergil begins gravely, not taking his eyes off the couch. "We… defiled your vehicle. I sincerely apologize."

"Whuh-" She squints at him like he's started speaking a different language, and then looks to V for some sort of guidance, or perhaps a confirmation. When V merely continues to smirk, that's all the answer she needs, and Vergil just about pinches time to blink out of there on the spot.

The sound she lets out can be best described as a high pitched squeal choking on a deep guffaw of gut-rending laughter.

"Who hasn't fucked in the van at this point?!" She slaps her thigh. "Aww, don't worry about it, Verg'! As long as you didn't mess with the  _ merchandise,  _ and cleaned up afterwards." She turns to V with a wink, 'discreetly' mouthing,  _ 'nice!' _

V merely shakes his head with an enigmatic chuckle behind his lips. The commotion wakes up Griffon, who had been dozing at his usual spot on the jukebox, and then he's treated to the  _ bird's  _ commentary as well. Vergil drags a hand down his face, wishing he hadn't said anything at all.


End file.
